


Cadence

by BadgerofHonour



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: 2018-2019 Figure Skating Season, Angst, Car Accidents, Career Ending Injuries, F/F, F/M, Fate, Gen, I have named Christophe's boyfriend pierre, M/M, Motorcycle Accidents, Multi, Multiple Points of View, Other, and lots of families, and relationships i just don't know how to tag them all, but hey they grow so it's worth it right, everyone pines like trees, hopefully, it'll work out in the end tho, more tags to follow when I remember what else I want to say, no beta we die like men, struggling professional skaters, there are friendships, there's nothing any of you can do to stop me
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:41:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28249293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BadgerofHonour/pseuds/BadgerofHonour
Summary: Cadence - the flow or rhythm of events, especially the pattern in which something is experienced,example: the frenetic cadence of modern life.Call it bad luck. A family curse. A twist of fate. A coincidence. A guy having five too many beers before getting behind the wheel of his truck. A downside, as well as a risk, to loving the freedom riding motorcycles can provide. Call it whatever you want. You can decide on a reason, the result is still the same. The end of one career. The rise of another.
Relationships: Christophe Giacometti/Christophe Giacometti's Boyfriend, Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov, Otabek Altin & Lee Seung Gil, Otabek Altin & Leo de la Iglesia & Jean-Jacques Leroy, Otabek Altin/Yuri Plisetsky, Phichit Chulanont/Leo de la Iglesia/Ji Guang-Hong, Sara Crispino & Lee Seung Gil
Comments: 3
Kudos: 10





	Cadence

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone!! I really hope that this work finds you well! 
> 
> I've never written something and gone through with publishing it before! So I hope you enjoy it! This was a fic born long ago, and a story that I have been dying to tell for some reason. 
> 
> Some content warning for this chapter: brief descriptions of severe injuries, car/motorcycle wreck, shock
> 
> It's a bit of a rough start for the boys but I promise it does end well for all parties involved!!! 
> 
> I truly hope you enjoy it! :)

Seung-gil Lee could not stop crying.

Not the pathetic broken sobs that had escaped his chest early that night. These were silent tears, the only ones that were okay to shed this late into the night. Or was it early into the morning now? He couldn't be sure. It was excruciating, watching the minutes pass into hours when he couldn't sleep. It was overwhelming. He hadn't touched his phone since he rolled to his side and the crying began. His cheeks felt raw from how many times he had wiped them, trying to ignore this suffocating feeling. He had scraped his way to the podium at Skate America, fighting the younger competitors the whole time. He placed fourth after the short programs and took third after the free skate, losing to Leo de la Iglesia and Otabek Altin by almost twenty points. 

Leo de la Iglesia, the American who couldn’t land quads had 14.36 points more than Seung-gil, who was able to land a quadruple Loop with almost perfect consistency. He was losing himself, losing his ability to do the only thing that he had ever been able to do right. And then what? How many more times would he scrape by before they all saw what he already knew? He was only 23, but he was already a skater in decline. His career was coming to an end and he had nothing to show for it besides a compilation of failures and a directionless future. It was getting worse. At least last season he didn’t have to look at any one and know he surpassed them on a technicality. How was he supposed to look at Phichit Chulanont tomorrow knowing his win was just that, a technicality? 

He grabbed his phone, groaning at the time. It was already 01:11. This was agony. He was going to make himself sick if he didn’t do something. Seung-gil rolled off the bed, tugging on the first set of joggers he could find. He pulled on his hoodie and sneakers before digging around his backpack for his airpods. Hopefully they were charged enough to last for a run. He wrapped his hand around the case and pushed them into his ears as he left the room. His room key was in his wallet, his wallet was in his pocket. He just needed to _move_. He made sure the door shut softly, that he stayed quiet moving down the hall. He didn't enjoy social interaction on good days, let alone in the early hours of the morning, when all it was all he could do to keep his breathing steady. Down the hallway, in the elevator. Ground floor. Get out, cross the lobby, push out the doors and... cool night air washed over him. Seung-gil paused, letting himself adjust to the cold, to the dark. Music. Start with music. 

He opened his phone, smiling wanly at the image of Cho, before opening his music and shuffling one of his playlists. This one was filled with music he had used for programs, wanted to use for programs, and the music that made him “feel himself”. It was full of music that spoke to him, that he felt in his soul, and it was something he kept close to his chest. No one needed to even know about it, let alone gain access to it. Even his coach, who had a deep admiration and respect for only heard pieces from it - had never seen the whole collection.A song began and he exhaled slowly, muscles already loosening. It wasn’t his first pick for music to run to, but it was upbeat and better than the voice inside his head. So he locked his phone, dropped it in his pocket and took off down the sidewalk. 

He just needed to go. The single minded focus of a run helped shut up all of the insecurities. It meant that he could just power through and exhaust himself until he could finally sleep. That’s what this was, a long process to get to the endgame of sleep. A decent amount of rest would help tomorrow go so much easier. Then he could just shut everything down. Make his face impassive and then no one would know that his world was crashing down around him. 

Seung-gil ran faster, forcing the feelings down. This wasn't like him. He was better than letting his emotions get to him like this. He wasn't Yuuri Katsuki or Michele Crispino or Viktor Nikiforov. He didn't allow his feelings to rule his life. _I gain no benefit from being nice to you, so why bother? I don't allow the audience's response to effect my performance._ What had happened to that Seung-gil? Now he was here, having a breakdown like a beginner. He didn’t have enough time to do that. He had to focus. He had to be better. For his country. For his people. For his own pride. 

He skipped the next song from his smart watch, not vibing with the piano heavy music Katsuki broke a world record with. The next was a pop song, one he couldn't name off the top of his head but knew all the words to. Better, this was much better. Run, all he needed to focus on right now was running. He had already scouted out a path when he arrived here in Everett, Washington. It was nice, and there was a strip of shops not too far from the hotel. Seung-gil turned the volume up, drowning out his thoughts and feelings of self-pity as he ran. He just needed a distraction now.

He liked America's tradition of Halloween celebrations. Seung-gil hadn't even considered the decorations that might be in storefronts, given that the holiday was in about ten days. He didn't stop to look at anything, just admired the glowing oranges and purples and greens as he passed. It wasn't a holiday celebrated as widely in Korea, but he had always enjoyed the Halloween's he got to spend here. It was almost too perfect, too easy the way the lights and pumkins, ghosts, ghouls, and goblins wiped his mind. But it was the skeletons that were his favorite. Seung-gil _really_ liked skeletons. He had t-shirts covered with them, stickers of grinning skulls all over his laptop case. He even had one of those heat sensitive mugs with a guy on the front, sitting with his dog and when it got hot they both turned to bones. That was a more recent purchase. Customizable and he couldn’t resist, immortalizing him and Cho on a mug that would emotionally scar his parents, on the off chance that they ever bothered to visit. His coach didn’t find it very funny, but to Seung-gil it was hilarious. 

He was starting to feel the pain from the run now, his body already aching from the pushing he had done earlier in the day. Or was it yesterday at this point? In these quiet moments none of that mattered. Nothing did. Not time or medals or death to careers. All that was for certain was that his legs were aching, his chest starting to burn as his body began to want more oxygen. But he didn’t slow down. He wasn’t going to stop until he was gasping for air. It was the only way he was going to get to sleep. It was strange, to love this feelings so much. When he was younger he hated it but now it felt like the only thing he deserved. He breathed deeply and felt his brows wrinkle. There was a sharp acrid smell hitting his nose and he winced. The fuck was that? Gasoline?? Ugh. Someone’s car must be leaking. That was disgusting. It made breathing deeply a lot more challenging. But he powered through it, moving forward until he felt glass crunch beneath his feet. He slowed to a stop, pausing his music as something cold and unsettling slipped down his spine. Something was wrong. 

“Hello? Is… is someone there?” He pulled his phone out of his pocket, and flicked on the flashlight. The light caught shattered glass, putting on a show just for him, unique as headlights on snow. He swallowed hard, narrowing his eyes as he looked around. God, that smell was terrible. A tangled mess caught his eye, what he thought had been a bush set next to a lamppost, but was - he found as he turned his light to it - a motorcycle, twisted into a tangled mess and leaking oil. 

His stomach flipped. This… that was not good. He stepped closer, swallowing back a wave of panic. If the bike was here, where was its rider?

“Hello??? Is anyone here?” The Halloween decorations weren’t as fun now, purples and oranges flashing over the grisly scene, throwing everything into sharp contrast and sickening shades. 

He stepped forward again, more glass crunching beneath his feet. Where had it come from? Shit… someone could be seriously hurt. He should call the police. What was the American number again? He typed it into Google, pulling a face when 9-1-1 popped up. How could he forget that? Whatever. He needed to call. 

Seung-gil turned, swallowing hard. What was he even supposed to say? _Hi, I’m Lee Seung-gil, from Korea!! I think, but do not know, that there is something not great happening here!_ He was an idiot. He moved towards the motorcycle. How far could this person have gone? He just needed proof, then he could call. Unless they had wandered off. Or this was a mob thing and someone was gonna jump out and kill him because he was in the wrong place at the wrong time and oh god. They’d totally chop off his feet. He could see it clearly, Lee Seung-gil, the moronic figure skater from Korea that got mixed up in the wrong business and had his feet shipped to his parents in a box. Burial site: Unknown. His heart was pounding in his ears and his mouth was dry. He could taste gasoline on his tongue. The smell of it was everywhere, it was sinking into everything. _Fuck_. He needed to get away from here. 

Seung-gil turned, getting ready to cross the street and call the American emergency line from there when more broken glass caught the light, winking up at him from the ground. He cut his eyes in that direction, seeing the shattered window of a store front. 

“Shit.” 

The driver must have gone through the window. That was so bad. He stepped forward, peering into the darkened space. More glass was scattered across the floor, but it was hard to make much out. It looked like it might be a tea shop? There were tables that appeared to be shoved off to the side, colored ceramic in shards intermingled with the glass. There was a powerful fragrance that could have been a mix of tea leaves, sweet and alluring, nothing like that smell of gasoline. Seung-gil narrowed his eyes, trying to get a better look inside. He shouldn't go in. If he was wrong and this wasn't the scene of a tragic accident he could end up in prison, being charged with breaking and entering or something stupid like that but… what if the driver was here? And he didn't look? He held up his flashlight higher and his heart stopped as the worn tread of a boot caught his eye. Someone was in there. And they weren’t moving. 

Consequences be damned, he had to do something. He found a place on the window that didn't have glass jutting out and pulled himself inside. "Hello?" Glass crunched beneath his feet and it was deafening now. There wasn’t any noise from them and his fingers trembled as he pulled up his phone screen, dialing the number and hitting call. It rang through his airpods and it was so…

"911 what is the location of your emergency?" 

"I don't. Um… Everett, Washington? I think this is Colby Ave. Looks like a tea shop. There's been an accident." He had stopped running for over a minute now, but it was still so hard to breathe. The words just came tumbling out of him. There was someone hurt in front of him and he couldn't move. 

"Sir. Do you speak English?" 

“Yes? Obviously I speak English.” The closer he got to the guy the more he could see. Helmet. Jacket. Blood. Twisted legs. 

“Good. Good then I need you to please try again.” How was this woman's voice so calm?

“I…. some guy on a motorcycle got hit. We’re in a tea shop and he’s not moving.”

"Okay. Do you know a street name?" 

"Colby Avenue. About a mile from the Angel of the Winds Arena. B- but I can't be too sure I don't know how long I was running." 

"Okay. First responders are on the way. Can you tell me if he has a pulse? Is he breathing?" 

“I…I don’t want to touch him.”

“I know it’s scary honey but I need you to check his pulse for me ok? Right now you’re the only person who can help him, and that’s really important.” Seung-gil nodded, before realising she couldn’t see him and answering. 

“Ok so, you’re just going to hold his wrist, and try and feel for a pulse. Just put your fingers where the tendons meet the hand, then move them just a little closer to the side the thumb is on. Do you feel anything?" 

He did what he was told, nearly jolting with surprise at the warmth of the person's skin, feeling the little fluttering movement that signified life. "Yes! Yes. It's faint but I can feel it." Seung-gil swallowed hard. He was touching him. He was alive and somehow it was so grounding. 

"What is his breathing like?" 

"Similar, shallow but there. It… it seems steady?" It was like looking at something out of a nightmare. There was so much blood. “He’s bleeding a lot though.”

“Can you tell me where from?”

Seung-gil took a shaking breath, looking up and down the man, trying to see where it was coming from without moving from where he was crouched. "His leg. There's a lot coming from his leg, I can see bones." And he could. There was white, sticking through jeans and he felt like he was going to puke. 

"Okay. Does it look like it's coming from anywhere else?" 

"I um…" 

"Take a deep breath. And do your best to just look. Any information you can give me is helpful. The paramedics should be there within three minutes. Just try and stay calm for me sweetie. You're doing so good." 

Seung-gil nodded, doing as he was told and looking over the man, more closely this time. “He’s wearing a helmet. He looks young and has a couple scratches on his face… he’s familiar? And his leg is really messed up but he’s got a big jacket on so his arms seem fine.” 

“You said he has a helmet on?” 

“Yes, it’s still on.” He crouched beside the man, trying to get a better look at him. “I… I swear he’s familiar.” 

“Okay, the paramedics will be there soon. Can you stay with him?”

“Of course.” Seung-gil couldn’t imagine leaving now. He had to make sure he was okay, that the paramedics got him out and that he made it to the hospital in one piece. 

“What’s your name, honey?” 

“Lee Seung-gil, I’m from Korea. I…” His voice caught in his throat as the light from his phone caught the rider’s face again. “Oh my God.” 

Hazy brown eyes blinked up at him. “Seung-gil? Lee, right….?”

“Altin?!?!”

“What are you doing here?”

  
  
Seung-gil dropped his phone. It landed face down, the light from his flashlight illuminating the scene as best it could, throwing up distorted shadows. “Altin, what the… what…”

“Sir, first responders will be to you in the next two minutes. Can you tell me what's happening?” The woman in his airpods sounded far away. All he knew right now was Altin. The blood. The wrecked motorcycle. The bones that he couldn’t force himself to look at again. 

“Lee, you are going to skate your exhibition tomorrow, right?” Those brown eyes blinked at him slowly, unfocused. 

“W-what? I… I don’t know. And it's today now.”

“You gotta man. It looked good in practice. Clean. And I’m fucked dude. I’m finished.” Altin’s voice was too even. How was he so calm?

Seung-gil slipped their hands together, unsure of what else to do besides grip tightly the leather wrapped fingers of Otabek Altin. “Don’t think about skating right now, you-”

“My career is over Seung-gil. I’ve seen you skate, I watched you compete. You’re a strong skater, you have what it takes to win. I’m finished,” his voice was shaking now. “But you don’t have to be. Keep skating. And win, Lee. For _both_ of us.”

“I-“

“Shit man. Sorry. That’s a lot of pressure you don’t deserve, it’s just…. Fuck this was my season. I was gonna be something and now…” He turned his head, looking down at his legs. "Now my foot is facing the wrong direction. I don't think even Nikiforov can skate like that." 

Seung-gil couldn't breathe. How was he awake? "Stop… stop worrying about skating, Altin. You're gonna be fine." 

“Maybe. But I won’t do what I love.” He blinked at his leg again slowly, before frowning. “Fuck, why can’t I _feel_ that?" 

Seung-gil shook his head, squeezing his fingers and trying to pull his attention away from his leg. "I don't know man. I… I can't tell how badly you're actually injured. Your body is in shock. I broke my arm once as a kid. Felt nothing. Our bodies are insane." He could hear the sirens now. The lady in his air pods might have been speaking but he couldn’t hear her words, all he could focus on was Otabek Altin squeezing his hand so tight he thought the bones might snap, wide terrified eyes staring down at his mangled limb. "Otabek, it's going to be okay. Paramedics are almost here and I'll make sure your coach knows what happened." 

His grip tightened and Seung-gil gasped at the pain that shot up his arm. _Fuck_. "Will you stay with me?" It was so quiet, but the words were there all the same, hanging heavy in the air.

“Where am I gonna go man? I’ll be here.”

The man nodded, face pale. “Good. Good. Thank you. That’s good.” 

Seung-gil brushed his thumb across his knuckles, hoping it was soothing. "I swear, I'm not going to leave you alone." 

"What if they won't let you in the ambulance?" 

"Don't worry about that, Otabek." Seung-gil swallowed hard. "You're okay. They're just outside now." 

"Oh that's nice... Hey… how did you find me?" 

“I was on a jog. If you can believe it.” It couldn't have been more than five minutes since he had been running away from everything, but now it felt as though it was light years ago.

“Oh neat. You do look sweaty.” 

"Wow. Rude." 

"Skate tomorrow Lee. Promise me." 

Seung-gil swallowed. "Yeah, yeah okay. I promise. I'll skate the exhibition. We'll tell the judges you caught the flu, that's why you can't tomorrow."

“That won’t work. I never get sick.” 

“Well we’re lying so I think it’ll be fine!” Seung-gil squeezed his hand gently. “Look man, the paramedics are about to come in. I’m gonna have to move.” 

“I understand.” Otabek let out a shaking breath. “You’ll be great in the exhibition tomorrow. And the NHK Trophy, Lee.” 

"I told you to stop worrying about skating Altin. I'll stay close by. But I have to move now." Seung-gil moved to stand and Otabek clutched his hand so tightly he whimpered.

"Promise?"

"Promise. They're going to help you." Seung-gil stood and Otabek slowly let him go.

“He’s awake?” One paramedic pulled Seung-gil aside, while the rest swarmed Otabek.

“Yeah. He wants to know if he can skate.” 

"Skate?" The man stared at him like Seung-gil had grown an extra head.

Seung-gil nodded, looking up at the man. "Yeah. We're competitors. We just finished up Skate America. He's got to be able to skate. It's our whole life." It was catching up to him. Where he was. What was happening. What he found. “Oh my god his career is over. Everything we’ve done for our whole lives and his career is over.” His chest hurt, it was getting harder to breathe with every second that passed. 

“Sir-”

“Everything we work for, it can just be taken away in a split second. Oh God, wh- what is he supposed to do now? What are we going to tell the ISU and the other skaters?! I can’t… I can’t breathe.” 

“It’s ok. It’s ok. Sit down, honey. You’re in shock.” He didn’t even realise he had been guided to the ambulance until he was seated, a blanket wrapped around him. “Just focus on your breathing for now. You can figure everything out as it comes up, but for now focus here. Okay? It sounds like you know him pretty well. Are you two friends?” 

“Not at all. He’s my competitor. And so I know him because he’s my competitor.”

“I see. Okay.” The man sat beside him. "Do you know much about him? Possible allergies? Anything we need to know about him?" Seung-gil shook his head. "Okay! That's okay. Do you know anyone who might know that information?" 

"His coach. Veronika Kemelov. I only know that off the top of my head because I was considering changing coaches last season." It was like his thoughts were swarming inside his brain, and his mouth didn't care about relevancy - spitting them all out as soon as he went to speak.

"That's good! Can you contact her?"

"I don't have a way to." He pulled the blanket closer around his shoulders. "But… My Coach knows her. Maybe she can?" 

Seung-gil nodded, reaching for his phone and finding his pockets empty. “I… I must have dropped my phone.”

“Is this it?” 

He looked over, seeing his phone in the man’s hand. “Ah. Yes. Thank you.” He unlocked it with a shaking hand, scrolling through his contacts for his coach. Hopefully she would answer. She liked to put her phone on silent at night sometimes, especially after competitions. 

“Seung-Gil? This better be an emergency.” Her voice was groggy.

“Oh good evening coach. I’m sorry to wake you up. Just a quick question, do you have Veronika Kemelov’s number and if so can I have it please?”

“Seung-gil what is going on?” She sounded way more alert now, her voice still firm but edged with something else. Frustration? Worry? Why did she sound so far away?

“It’s nothing major, the paramedics just want to know if Otabek has any allergies. Right?” he glanced at the paramedic, who gave him a nod.

"What?" 

"The paramedics want to know if Otabek has any allergies. And I figure if anyone will know it will be his coach. I don't know if he's friends with any of the other skaters, ma'am." 

"Paramedics? Seung-gil, are you hurt?! Where are you?!"

“No no I’m fine it’s just Otabek got hit by a car and now his leg’s all twisted. Can you skate with a backwards foot?” What a funny question. But why was it funny? What was funny about this?!? 

“I’m gonna take control from here son.” The phone was pried from his fingers gently but firmly, and the medic started speaking down the line. Seung-gil frowned. He liked hearing his coach speak. Her voice was familiar, he had heard it more than his own mother's. Why would the man take that away from him? "Alright. Here you go. We're going to transport both of you to the hospital." 

Seung-gil nodded, because what else was there to do really? 

Everything passed in a blur and he came back to himself when someone handed him something warm. 

“Coffee. To help settle the nerves.” He blinked, wrapping his hands around it easily. He was cold, deep to the bone. The warmth was welcome. How did he end up inside? Was it normal to just space out like this? Should he be worried? Who even handed him this cup? 

“Your coach is just talking to the physician but you should be cleared to head out soon. The doctor says you’re mainly just in shock, and that you should be alright after you get some rest, ok honey?” 

He looked up at the nurse, nodding. "Okay. Thank you." She was pretty, he noted dazedly, with kind eyes and short blond hair. Her scrubs were a soft shade of green that he had always been partial to. It was nice to be aware of his surroundings again. "My coach. Is she helping to deal with Otabek?" 

“His coach is here now honey, yours is just making sure that you’re all cleared and squared away so that you can get out of here as quickly and as smoothly as possible.”

“Ah. Yeah, okay.” He took a sip of the coffee, cringing just a bit at how bitter it was. He never was a fan of coffee, but the pretty nurse assured him it would help with his nerves so he was going to drink it, taste buds be damned. He wrapped his hands a bit tighter around the cup. He didn’t want to squeeze too hard or it might collapse it but the warmth was so nice. He hadn’t been aware of how cold it was when he had been outside, not before he took another sip and warmth blossomed in his chest. 

Seung-gil sat in comfortable silence, sipping his coffee as he waited for Min-so to come and get him. It was odd, because he would have waited here forever. He didn’t want to leave. At least not until he was sure that Otabek was okay. Why hadn’t the nurse at least said whether he was okay or not? Seung-gil swallowed hard. Everything still felt odd. How much longer did he need to be here? How much longer did he want to be here? Everything was shaky and strange and there were sounds all around him but they were muffled as they came to his ears and it was very, very strange.

“Seung-gil. Are you ready?” He blinked up at Min-so.   
  


“Coach. I… we have to leave now?” She sat beside him, setting her hand gently on his arm. “I don’t think I want to leave yet. I want… is Otabek going to be able to skate tomorrow?” Today, his brain supplied helpfully. Today now. 

“No, he is not.” She spoke softly. It made his chest tight. “He’s going to need a lot of rest for some time before he can even _think_ about skating again. Okay? Just like you’re going to need a lot of sleep if you want to skate tomorrow.” 

He looked over at her. “I have to skate tomorrow ma’am. I _have_ to. The doctor said I can, right?!” 

“Yes, Seung-gil. You can. But only if you rest.”

“I _have_ to.”

Min-so blinked at him, but nodded. He wasn’t cognitive enough to even begin to try and unpack her expression. “Then we need to get going. Because as much as we’re all saying tomorrow,” she glanced down at her phone, the light highlighting the dark circles under her eyes, “the exhibition is tonight.”

Seung-gil nodded, finally trusting his legs enough to try to stand. He felt off balance, like he shouldn’t be moving, even as he tried to gather himself. “Did you call an uber or something, to get us back?”   
  
She nodded. “Yes, and it'll be here soon.”

“Will… will someone keep you updated about Otabek?”

She pocketed her phone, nodding once. “Kemelov assured me she will keep me informed on anything we need to know. But until the exhibition is over I want you to do your best to forget about all of this. Do you understand?” 

“Yes ma’am.” He took a deep breath, closing his eyes to the memories, shoving them down. Face impassive. Back straight. Focus. "I understand."

**Author's Note:**

> And there it is! Just a heads up there is gonna be quite a few POV switches throughout this whole thing, but I really hope you enjoyed! The song referenced at the beginning of Seung-gils run is [Comes and Goes by Hyukoh.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ECMc1SB60E0)


End file.
